


Long and Lost

by aqd



Series: tumblr prompts [12]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Accidents, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Gift Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Long One Shot, M/M, Missing Persons, One Shot, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 03:59:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12903528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aqd/pseuds/aqd
Summary: Another day passes, endless hours of waiting, ofmaybe, ofplease, ofwhy. Kanda stays the whole night on his feet and wanders through the streets in the desperate hope to spot a red shock of hair, but nothing. Lavi vanished and all that is left is an empty bedroom and the feeling to slowly suffocate.





	Long and Lost

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SuicideToro](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuicideToro/gifts).



> This fic is a gift for Suicidetoro, who send me this prompt: "Can I request a ficlet in which Lavi gets physically hurt or has some urgent illness, and Kanda sort of loses his shit for a while in panic?"  
> I combined it with another prompt some lovely anon sent me: "I thought i lost you"  
> Thanks to both of you for sending these awesome prompts!
> 
> Sam, I hope you like the fic. You're an awesome person :)
> 
> The title was inspired by Florence and the Machine's "Long and Lost". I love this song. 
> 
> trigger warnings: missing people, accidents, hospitals, injuries.

It’s unusual silent in the small apartment. The only sounds are the ticking of the clock on the wall and the dull humming of the fridge. Kanda walks through the dimly lit corridor and into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Then he leans against the counter and his eyes wander through the room.  
  
Lavi even did the dishes before he left. They’re friends for years and since a few months flatmates. It works out, aside from the endless discussion about cleaning. Kanda likes it tidy and clean and does the dishes daily, while Lavi is way more chaotic and doesn’t mind a little mess. But some time ago he started to do more of the housework to Kanda’s pleasure.  
  
_For you_ , with a warm smile. Kanda didn’t answer, because he had no idea what to say and so he just nodded. Lavi didn’t mind and his smile got even wider.  
  
A few weeks ago Kanda visited his father over the weekend and when he came home his bed was freshly made, there was tempura in the fridge and the flat was thoroughly cleaned. Kanda returned the favour two weeks later when Lavi visited his great-great-uncle for a few days. Since then they do stuff like this for each other. Cook for each other, do the complete laundry, buy little things. Back in their school days all they did was messing with each other, bicker and banter, but in the last year their friendship slowly started to change, especially after they moved in together. It got more intimate, closer, maybe even softer and in the beginning Kanda was thoroughly weirded out, because the idea of getting closer to the dumb rabbit was just incredibly awkward, but this feeling slowly ceased.  
  
Lavi left for a party a few hours ago and now it’s so awfully quiet in their apartment. Kanda wanted to go early to bed, but in the end he couldn’t sleep and so he prepared Lavi’s favourite food: lasagne. The hoggish idiot is probably going to devour everything in one sitting and then sleep for fourteen hours. The corners of Kanda’s mouth twitch and he pours hot water into a cup.  
  
Their friendship changed and he somehow stopped minding. It’s still a little weird sometimes, when they bump into each other in the dark hallway or a forced to sit way too close together, because friends are visiting and the couch in Lavi’s room is too small. Kanda never knows what to do with his hands and Lavi laughs flustered, cheeks a little warm and green eyes glinting. One week ago Lavi’s study group was over and the redhead somehow managed to talk Kanda into watching a movie with them after the work was done. Of course they ended up next to each other, shoulders pressed together and hands accidentally touching. Lavi had laughed and looked everywhere but at him and Kanda had examined his own knees and said nothing. Their hands lay next to each other, Lavi’s little finger touching the back of Kanda’s hand, and after a few seconds Lavi had fallen silent and moved his finger slowly over the warm back of Kanda’s hand. Kanda had looked up and their eyes had met. It was only a moment. Lavi’s eyes very green and warm and Kanda’s own not remotely as cagey as he wished for. Then Allen had flopped down next to Lavi and both of them had pulled their hands back.  
  
Stuff like this keeps happening. Too long looks, barely hidden smiles, hands accidentally touching. They don’t talk about it and Kanda tries to ignore the weird fluttering in his stomach, whenever Lavi looks at him. Instead he prepares meals he’s not going to eat, buys snacks he doesn’t like, ignores clothes lying around. And Lavi does the dishes daily, puts Kanda’s favourite cup every night on the counter, already waiting for him, gets up earlier so they can talk at least a few words before Kanda has to leave for work.  
  
Kanda finishes his tea and hesitates for a moment, before he walks into the bathroom and turns on the heating, because the lanky rabbit always freezes under the shower as soon as the first leafs start to turn yellow. Then he goes to bed and listens to the silence of an empty apartment, until he finally falls asleep.  
  
He wakes up early as always, tiptoeing through the dark corridor, because he doesn’t want to wake Lavi up, who probably sleeps the sleep of the just, belly full lasagne and a little tipsy. In the bathroom he’s greeted by cozy warmth and turns off the heating with a sigh. Lavi often forgets to switch off lights or the heating. It annoys Kanda, but he stopped bitching about it some time ago, probably because he dislikes the thin line, which always appears between Lavi’s brows when he notices that Kanda is angry. He takes a quick shower and just slips into fresh clothes, when there’s a sharp knock at the door. Kanda shoots a look through the spyhole.  
  
“Moyashi,” he greets Allen silently when he opens the door.  
  
“Hey,” he answers and smiles tiredly.  
  
“What do you want?” Kanda doesn’t let him in, because he’s in a rush. Instead he just examines him.  
  
“I think Lavi accidentally took my keys home. My pockets are too small and he carried my stuff for me and I thought he gave me everything back, but I don’t find my keys,” he explains and now Kanda steps aside. “I’ll take a look into his jacket, okay?” he asks and Kanda nods.  
  
“Go ahead.” He walks into the kitchen to put the kettle on, when Allen pokes his head through the door.  
  
“Where’s his jacket?” he whispers and Kanda raises his brows.  
  
“Not on the coatrack?” he asks and wants to take a look himself, when he pauses. Four pairs of shoes. Three of them Kanda’s, one Lavi’s. “Where are his shoes?” No sneakers, way too green for Kanda’s taste. He knows Lavi wore them, because they clashed with his dark green beanie.  
  
He and Allen lock eyes for a short moment. He seems to be as puzzled as Kanda, who now steps to the door of Lavi’s room and knocks. Silence. He opens the door and switches on the light. The bed is empty and as messy as yesterday evening, when Kanda went into his room to let down the shutters.  
  
“Maybe he’s still out and about. Did you try to call him?” Kanda asks and examines Allen, who nods.  
  
“He doesn’t answer. I thought he’s asleep and his phone on vibrate,” he answers and frowns. “He wasn’t home at all?”  
  
“It doesn’t look like he was.” Kanda switches off the lights and walks back into the kitchen to prepare some tea. “Do you want to wait for him?”  
  
“I don’t understand that.” Allen doesn’t answer his questions, instead his frown deepens. “He left hours ago and wanted to go home.”  
  
“When?” Kanda puts the kettle down and now he’s frowning, too.  
  
“10 pm, because he had a headache,” Allen answers and Kanda’s eyes jump to the clock. 6 am.  
  
“I have no idea. Maybe he changed his mind and visited somebody. You know him, he’s sometimes out and about the whole night,” Kanda replies and shrugs. “I have to go to work, but you can wait here, if you want to. Or is somebody home to let you in?”  
  
“My flatmate gets up in an hour. I’ll wait a little and then I go home, okay?” Allen asks and Kanda nods.  
  
“Drink something if you want to, but don’t clean out the fridge,” he deadpans and Allen rolls his eyes.  
  
“I’ll give my best.”  
  
They sit together for a few more minutes, Kanda quickly eating soba and Allen devouring a huge sandwich and talking about the evening, before Kanda has to blow-dry his hair and leave.  
  
The morning is stressful and passes quickly, just like always. Kanda’s boss has a bad day and takes his anger out on him and it takes all of Kanda’s might to stay silent. He has to work overtime and it’s already late afternoon when he’s finally home, tired and mood sour.  
  
“Lavi?” he calls out and shakes the jacket off, before picking it back up to put it on the coatrack. Still no jacket and no green sneakers. The dumb rabbit is probably on his way to Allen to bring him his keys. Kanda just wants to lie down, but he has to eat something and so he walks into the kitchen and opens the fridge, just to falter. Lasagne, untouched.  
  
“Lavi?” he repeats and walks back into the corridor. The door to Lavi’s room is as open as Kanda left it in the morning. He peeks into the room and frowns. The bed is still like as messy as before. No redhead to be seen.  
  
Kanda pulls his phone out and calls him. He only has to wait for a few seconds, until he hears a faint rhythmic sound. Like a phone on vibrate. He steps into the room and puts his own phone down, listening. From behind the nightstand. Kanda moves it and there it is. A phone, charging and forgotten, maybe fallen behind the nightstand. Lavi has a talent for forgetting his stuff.  
  
Kanda ends the call, before he calls Allen.  
  
“Huh?” He sounds groggy and it dawns on Kanda that he was probably asleep.  
  
“Kanda here. Did you hear anything from Lavi?” he asks and it’s silent for a long moment.  
  
“No,” Allen finally answers. “He doesn’t answer his phone.”  
  
“He forgot it,” Kanda explains and inhales slowly. “So he didn’t pay you a visit to bring your keys?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer.  
  
“No,” Allen repeats and sounds wide awake. “I’m gonna call Lenalee and the others, okay?”  
  
“Okay,” Kanda replies and ends the call. For a moment he thinks about calling Lavi’s great-great-uncle, but the man is old and Kanda doesn’t want to worry him. He had heart issues in the last year and the last thing he wants is giving Lavi’s only living relative a heart attack.  
  
Instead he takes Lavi’s phone and calls one of his friends after the other, even though Allen is probably doing the same. He’s calm in the beginning, but with every _sorry_ and _I have no idea_ his heart beats a little faster and finally he calls Allen again.  
  
“Moyashi,” he greets him and Allen doesn’t even protest.  
  
“Nothing. Nobody saw him after he left,” he answers, voice sounding hollow. “What are we going to do?”  
  
Kanda is silent for a long moment, heart jumping around in his chest, before he inhales deeply. “You’re gonna go back to bed and I’ll have a look for him. I call as soon as I find him. He’s probably lying on somebody’s couch and is asleep.” It’s fascinating how calm his voice sounds, even though his hands are ice cold. Calm enough to trick Allen.  
  
“You think so?” he asks, voice much more even than before.  
  
“Yes,” Kanda answers. “You know him. It’s not the first time he’s nowhere to be found.”  
  
It’s a lie. Yes, Lavi sometimes leaves without telling anybody where he’s going. Anybody aside Kanda, who once mentioned that he disliked that behaviour. Without using the little word _worry_ , because it implicates that he’s caring, more than Lavi’s other friends. Lavi had examined him for a very long moment, before softly whispering okay and since then he always messaged Kanda.  
  
_He forgot his phone_ , he thinks and ends the call. _That’s the reason he didn’t write a message_.  
  
He leaves a message by the door, next to Lavi’s phone. _Call me!_ No _please_ , no _thank you_. Just two messy words. Then he leaves the apartment and for the next few hours he checks the campus, Lavi’s favourite café, the library, every place he can think of. He even checks his way home, but nothing. No trace to be found.  
  
His phone stays silent and when it finally starts to ring it’s not Lavi. It’s his great-great-uncle, who is worried, because he didn’t show up for some tea as planned.  
  
Kanda hurries home in the desperate hope that Lavi might didn’t see his message, forgot to call, maybe lies in his bed and sleeps, but the apartment is empty and dark and phone and message are untouched. Kanda even calls the bar Lavi works one time per week as a sideline, but nobody heard of him. They promise to call if he shows up, since he has to work in the evening.  
  
Kanda fought for years for his independence, always hating how much his father worries, how often he calls. And still he’s the one Kanda calls.  
  
Froi picks him up only twenty minutes later and after getting the old man they’re on their way to the police. It’s already getting dark and Kanda’s hands get colder and colder.  
  
They don’t have to wait long. The policeman stays relaxed and wants to dismiss them, until the phone in Kanda’s pocket, Lavi’s phone, starts to ring. It’s the bar. He didn’t come to work.  
  
“So he didn’t come home and didn’t show up at your place,” the policeman examines the old man, who’s as pale as Kanda feels and nods. “And he didn’t show up to work? Is he reliable normally?” he asks and Kanda nods immediately, even though Lavi has a talent of coming too late or forgetting meetings.  
  
“Yes, absolutely,” he answers and the old man looks at him, but doesn’t say anything.  
  
The policeman nods. “Do you have a photo of him?”

 

Kanda doesn’t sleep in this night. He jolts with every sound awake, hoping it’s Lavi, who just went to a trip without telling anybody, got hopelessly drunk and lost, just forgot to message anybody for a solid day. But it’s not him.  
  
He doesn’t go to work the next day. He waits and waits and waits. Nobody calls and the persons knocking at his door are his father and Allen, who does the same Kanda did the day before. He calls everybody and searches for him.  
  
Kanda can barely bear the waiting, but at the same time he doesn’t want to leave, just in case Lavi just comes home exactly at that moment. But he doesn’t.  
  
Kanda doesn’t sleep in the next night, too. He doesn’t even try, instead he sits the whole night at the window and stares at the street, hoping for a red shock of hair appearing out of thin air. Sun rises and he’s still not home.  
  
He falls asleep around noon after an argument with his father, because he wants Kanda to eat, but his stomach rebels and the mere idea of eating makes him feel sick. Somebody knocks at the door and he jumps to his feet, brushing past his father, who’s already in the hallway.  
  
It’s the policeman. He sees Kanda’s pale face, his wide eyes, the dark circles under them, and doesn’t beat around the bush. “We found a body. Red hair, about 1,85 meter tall, lanky. He has no identity card and we can’t say for sure if it’s him.” It’s silent, but only for a moment, then all Kanda hears is the rushing of his own blood. Two hands close around his upper arms.  
  
“I’m sure it’s not him.” His father’s voice barely makes it through the dull roaring in Kanda’s ears. “Yuu, I’m sure it’s not him.”  
  
For a moment Kanda just wants so scream. _You can’t know that_. But he stays silent and suddenly they’re sitting in a police car. Kanda doesn’t remember putting on shoes and a jacket, but he’s wearing them. The shoes feel weird and too big and after some time - Seconds? Minutes? – he notices that they’re Lavi’s boots. Two sizes too big and worn out.  
  
They don’t pick up Lavi’s great-great-uncle, they just drive past his house. Kanda can’t get his eyes off the shoes. And suddenly there’s hope. Maybe it’s really not him. Maybe it’s another lanky redhead, 1,85m, face full of freckles and sunshine. Maybe, maybe, maybe. His father takes his hand and for the first time in years Kanda doesn’t pull away.  
  
They drive and drive and Kanda doesn’t know if it’s hours or minutes, but suddenly they’re there. The policeman leads the way and Kanda and his father follow, legs getting heavier with each step. His father wants to do it, go inside and look at the body, but Kanda just shakes his head and soon he stands in a morgue, staring at a body hidden under a white sheet and his head is completely empty. Then they fold the sheet back.  
  
A minute later he’s out and his father cups his cheeks, rubs his back, eyes wide and full of questions. Kanda can’t say a word, tongue not moving, lungs not working, so the policeman does.  
  
“It’s not him.”

 

Kanda doesn’t want to sleep. He wants to stay awake, to keep his eyes open, because the image of a deathly pale face keeps ghosting over the inner sides of his eyelids, slowly changing from an unknown person to Lavi. Pale, freckles barely visible, eyes dull. He tries to stay awake, but after days with barely sleep, he can’t keep his eyes open.  
  
He doesn’t sleep for long. His phone rings in the early hours and it’s his father, who doesn’t want to use his keys to come in, since all Kanda does is desperately hoping for the sound of well-known steps and the jingle of keys. He more or less forces him to eat, but Kanda can barely keep a slice of bread down. Somebody knocks at the door. It’s the old man.  
  
He examines Kanda, eyes slowly wandering over his pale face, before he clears his throat. “I called the police to ask after news and they told me you looked at a body,” he says slowly and Kanda nods, throat very dry.  
  
“It wasn’t him,” Froi says, because Kanda can’t even remember when he said more than a few words for the last time. “They didn’t want to upset you. It wasn’t him,” he repeats and now the old man looks at Kanda.  
  
“Are you completely sure?” he asks and his eyes threatens to well over.  
  
“It wasn’t him,” Kanda replies, hoarse voice cracking. The old man nods and wipes his cheeks.  
  
“Okay,” he answers and then he turns around and leaves. Froi wants to stop him, offer him to stay, but Kanda holds him back. He can barely bear looking at the old man, because all he can think about is red hair and green eyes, and it has to be even worse for him. Standing in Lavi’s apartment, which is so terribly empty, even though there are two people in it.

 

Kanda’s boss calls, but only to ask how he is. He doesn’t say much and the mere sound of his voice has to be answer enough, because he doesn’t call again.  
  
Another day passes, endless hours of waiting, of _maybe_ , of _please_ , of _why_. Kanda stays the whole night on his feet and wanders through the streets in the desperate hope to spot a red shock of hair, but nothing. Lavi vanished and all that is left is an empty bedroom and the feeling to slowly suffocate.  
  
Later he sits in his room, listening to his father doing the dishes in the kitchen and staring at the wall. For the first time the catastrophe slowly sinks in. It’s not only fear and worry, it’s grief and horror.  
  
Lavi is gone like he was never there in the first place and suddenly his own body feels too small. His lungs are squished together and he can’t breathe. His father stands only a moment later in the door.  
  
“Yuu,” he says, but Kanda can barely hear him. His own heartbeat is deafening. It throbs to his head, makes everything feel even smaller, even more constricted. “Yuu,” he repeats and then he has a pillow in his hands. “Yuu, leave it out.”  
  
And so he does. Crouching on his bed and screaming and screaming and screaming into the pillow. His father, normally always worried, way too fast teary-eyed, stays ridiculously calm and just waits, until Kanda feels like fainting and his throat hurts terribly. He lies down, because white sparks keep dancing through his vision and there’s a shrill beeping in his ears.  
  
His father gets him a cool cloth and Kanda even lets him dab his forehead a few times, before his ice cold hands grab the cloth. He examines his father and the words just break out.  
  
“He’s dead.”  
  
His father examines him and swallows. “Yuu, you can’t know that,” he says and wants to comfort him, but Kanda can’t. He can’t. He gets up and flees into the darkness, wearing Lavi’s boots and walking until his legs feel like lead.  
  
Sun is already rising when he sways upstairs, legs and eyes too heavy. His father rips the door open as soon as he hears his steps and something is different. Something happened. Kanda sees it in his eyes and his whole body gets hot and cold at the same time.  
  
“There’s somebody in a hospital about an hour away. A hit and run victim. They don’t know if it’s him, but the size, hair and eye colour matches.”  
  
Kanda stares at him and then he’s running down the stairs, steps hectic and so much lighter. His father grabs his keys and their phones and then he’s right behind him. They pick up the old man, who already waits in front of his house, and then they are on their way. The drive takes forever. Hours seem to pass and the chaos in Kanda’s head gets louder and louder.  
  
Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe it’s him. Maybe it’s Lavi. Maybe he’s alive. Maybe, maybe, maybe.  
  
His father has barely stopped in the parking lot and Kanda already jumps out of the car and races into the hospital. He nearly runs into the policeman, who’s already waiting.  
  
“We don’t know if it’s him,” he greets him and Kanda knows that he’s right, but his heart doesn’t care.  
  
“Can I…?” The words barely want to leave his mouth and the policeman frowns.  
  
“He’s hurt, badly. Internal bleeding, brain haemorrhage and the like.” His eyes wander to Froi and the old man, who appear in the foyer. “Does he have any characteristics, you didn’t mention until now? Anything?”  
  
Kanda’s eyes jump over his face, thoughts racing through his brain, and suddenly he has to think about last summer. They sat next to each other and watched a movie and Kanda had tried his best to keep his eyes from Lavi’s long legs. He was wearing only shorts and he just seemed to know, because he kept smiling and darting looks at him.  
  
“Right leg, inner side of his ankle. Three moles, like a triangle.”  
  
The policeman writes down everything, before looking once more at him. “Do you have more?”  
  
“Why can’t I just have a look at him?” Frustration sloshes over him and in the end it’s the old man, who answers.  
  
“Because you desperately want it to be him, just like I do.” He doesn’t look at Kanda, instead his eyes stay on writing pad in the policeman’s hands. “A scar on his left wrist, right under his thumb. And another birthmark, on the inner side of his left upper arm.”  
  
He’s right. Kanda takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment.  
  
They sat way too close together, jammed between the members of Lavi’s study group. Kanda’s eyes had wandered over his freckles, his lips and finally up to his eyes. Long, light brown lashes, and eyes green, so green. Then Lavi’s phone vibrated and Kanda got up, even though the glass in his hand was still full.  
  
“He has a brown spot in his left eye,” he says slowly. “Right under the pupil. Light brown.”  
  
The policeman nods and then he asks them to wait. They don’t sit down, they just stay where they are, next to each other, hands and eyes restless.  
  
It has to be Lavi. Kanda closes his eyes and tries to stay calm. It _has_ to be Lavi. Please let it be Lavi. Please, please, please. Somebody lays a hand on his shoulder. It’s the old man. He doesn’t say anything, but Kanda sees in his eyes that he’s as desperate as him.  
  
A nurse stops next to them and they follow her. Endless hallways, the smell of disinfectant. Everything is so white, the walls, the ceiling, her clothes, the coat of the doctor, who stands next to the policeman and examines them seriously. Kanda just wants to brush past them, into the room to see him with his own eyes, but they don’t let him.  
  
“The characteristics match, as far as we can say,” she explains calmly and her eyes wander over three pale faces. And then she starts to talk about his injuries, maybe to warn them, before they go in and identify him. Broken bones, internal bleeding, spleen ectomy, the loss of one eye, brain haemorrhage, induced coma. Kanda barely hears her voice and finally they let them in.  
  
White, white, white. White walls, white ceiling, white bed sheets, white bandages. And a pale face.  
  
The person in the bed doesn’t look like Lavi. His face is severely bruised and swollen, the right side hidden behind bandages. A monitor beeps silently.  
  
Kanda’s first thought is that this can impossible be Lavi. His hair is shaved off, his freckles barely visible and there’s no sunshine in his face.  
  
“Can you…” The policeman swallows. “Can you check his characteristics yourself? To be sure?” he asks carefully and the old man looks at Kanda, eyes wide and face pale, and so he’s the one, who steps closer, who stops right next to the bed, who examines the destroyed human in front of him.  
  
“Can I see his eye?” He wants to add _the left one_ , until he remembers that there isn’t another one, not anymore. The doctor steps closer immediately and gently pulls up a swollen eyelid.  
  
Green, so green. And a single light brown spot, right under the pupil.  
  
Kanda forgets how to breathe and his hands move on their own. He gently turns an ice cold hand, the left one. A scar, right under his thumb. His eyes jump over bruises and wounds and he spots more and more little details. Bitten nails, a tiny mole on his neck, light brown lashes.  
  
“It’s him,” he croaks and the old man bursts into tears.

 

A hit and run accident, on a dark street. Not the one Kanda checked, but the next street over. A woman walked her dog, who was unusual nervous and in the end she nearly tripped over Lavi, who lay at the side of the street, severely injured and all alone, wallet missing. An ambulance and the police were called. A young policeman noted the wrong part of the city and that’s the reason it took days to find the connection. A young redhead missing and a young redhead hit by a car.  
  
To everybody’s surprise Kanda stays completely calm, even though he has good reasons to let hell loose. Days of worry and fear. But his oldest friend rage stays silent. Instead he just sits at Lavi’s bed.  
  
His father and the old man have so many questions and the doctor and policeman answer all of them, while Kanda stays silent. He even stays silent, when they explain that he wasn’t immediately found after the accident. His lips stays closed, while his heart rages in his chest and the image of Lavi, all alone and severely injured, laying on the cold ground and bleeding, claws itself into the inner side of his head.  
  
It doesn’t leave for the rest of the day and when they have to go in the evening it’s still there. Froi offers to stay the night, but Kanda doesn’t want to see anybody and so they agree on Froi picking him up in the morning to drive back to the hospital.  
  
Kanda’s legs are endlessly heavy and he can barely do another step when he finally reaches their apartment. The keys keep falling out of his hand and then he’s inside and only takes of shoes and jacket before he collapses on his bed.  
  
He lies in the darkness and finally he falls apart. He cries for the first time in years, face hidden in the pillow and the image of Lavi’s bruised face ghosting through his head. The doctor didn’t sugarcoat the situation.  
  
_We don’t know if he’s going to make it._  
  
The words keep wandering through his head, getting louder each time, and Kanda wants to scream, lash out, destroy something, but after days without proper sleep and eating, he doesn’t have the energy. Instead he gets up slowly and walks through the dark corridor, until he’s in Lavi’s room. He doesn’t switch on the light, instead he crawls under the blanket and is effete enough to fall asleep quickly, lulled by the smell of detergent and something fruity.

 

The next days pass in a haze. Kanda spends the whole time next to his bed or waiting in the corridor. They have to bring him repeatedly into the OR, because one of his kidneys won’t stop bleeding. In the end they have to remove it, just like his spleen and eye, and Lavi looks a little paler and a little smaller afterwards. He seems to fade away, merging with the white sheets. His hair grows back, but only a little. Red stubbles under Kanda’s fingers.  
  
Finally they try to wake him up and Kanda is even more scared than before, because the doctors can’t assess the consequences of the brain haemorrhage. Kanda waits for hours, together with the old man, as terrified as never before in his life, because maybe Lavi’s not going to wake up, maybe he’s not going to recognize them, maybe he’s never going to be the same like before the accident.  
  
But Lavi does recognize them. After hours of endless waiting his lashes twitch slightly and then he opens his eye, wandering over the ceiling and the walls, until Kanda cautiously touches his cheek. It jumps towards him and for a moment Lavi just looks at him. He can’t talk because of the artificial respiration, but he doesn’t have to. His eye tears up and so do Kanda’s own.  
  
“Lavi,” he whispers and his fingers gently trace the sharp lines surrounding his eye. The old man appears in the door, Kanda didn’t even notice him leaving, and he’s accompanied by the doctor. “He’s in pain,” Kanda says, before looking back at Lavi. “Lavi, everything is going to be okay.” Lavi’s eye stays another moment on his face until the pain meds kick in. It flutters shut and the lines smooth out.

 

Kanda barely leaves. He sits all day next to Lavi, who wakes up more and more often. They finally remove the artificial respiration and the only sound escaping Lavi’s mouth is a pained groan. Kanda lays his hand cautiously on his forehead and his eye wanders to his face.  
  
“Everything is going to be alright,” he whispers, like he did so often in the last days, and keeps caressing his face, until Lavi’s eyelids grow heavy.

 

Days fly by and Kanda has to go back to work. He’s miles away the whole day and instead of going home he drives to the hospital.  
  
Lavi is asleep and so he just sits next to him and watches the slow up and down of his chest. He stays until the nurses send him home. It’s deafening silent and Kanda doesn’t sleep. He keeps walking through the apartment, always waiting for a phone call, a knock at the door. He reads online about traumatic brain injury, complications, long-term effects. When he finally falls asleep, it’s not for long. Soon the image of a deathly pale redhead, not Lavi, nameless and lost, ghosts through his head and he jolts awake. He quickly showers and then he goes nearly two hours too early to work, because that means he can leave earlier and go to the hospital.

 

Lavi finally starts to speak and keeps asking the same questions. Kanda fears the worst, but the doctors explain it’s a common effect after brain injury and coma. They even show them the MRT scans and while Kanda just wants to run as fast as he can, the old man wants to understand. Words like motor cortex, right hemisphere and lesion keep wandering through his head, until he can’t endure it any longer and leaves to look after Lavi, who smiles for the first time since the accident, when Kanda walks through the door. It’s a very lopsided smile and the facial paralysis freaks Kanda even more out, but he still doesn’t leave.

 

“Yuu.” Kanda’s eyes snap open. Lavi lies on his side and examines him, still way too pale, but at least a little livelier. He’s smiling.  
  
“Lavi,” he replies and smooths his thumb over his pale cheek. Touching Lavi’s face has become a normal thing to do. His green eye keeps wandering over his face. Lavi’s memory is still impaired, but at least he stopped asking what has happened, again and again.  
  
“Yuu,” he repeats, the word easily rolling off his tongue. The facial paralysis lets him slur even more than normally, but Kanda gets most of the time what he wants to say. He leans back and keeps moving his fingers over his still slightly swollen and bruised face and for the first time he feels relief, not clouded by fear and worry. Lavi’s blood values have started to return to normal, he’s less disoriented than in the beginning and the doctors are pleased and less serious.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“You look tired,” Lavi says and leans his face into his touch. “You should go home and sleep a little.” He closes his eye and Kanda keeps tracing his cheek bone and temple without answering. He doesn’t go home and he doesn’t sleep, instead he watches Lavi sleeping, until the nice nurse really has to ask him to leave, hours after the last visitor.

 

Lavi’s smile doesn’t stay as bright. It always appears as soon as he sees Kanda, but it disappears even faster. Lavi tries not to show it, but needing help all the time frustrates him. He has compounded fractures in his right leg and arm, while his left side doesn’t obey, because of the brain injury. He gets physiotherapy and tries to be brave, but the pain is barely bearable. He doesn’t cry in front of Kanda, but his eye is reddened and his smile brittle.  
  
Kanda doesn’t know what to say and so he stays in silence until Lavi falls asleep. Every day.

 

It’s weird. Life goes on and Kanda somehow comes to terms with barely sleep, sitting for hours in the hospital and working fulltime. But he doesn’t come to terms with the new Lavi. It’s not the way he looks like. Kanda can live with scars, facial paralysis, an eyepatch and how much weight he lost. He _can’t_ live with the tiredness in Lavi’s eye, the sharp lines between his eyebrows whenever he’s in pain - and Lavi is nearly all the time in pain -, reduced appetite, the way he sometimes stares out of the window for hours.  
  
He gives his best, visits every day, brings books and music, but the only thing that banishes the sadness in Lavi’s eye at least for a while is Kanda’s hand on his cheek, his forehead, in his hair. Lavi’s smile stays weak, but at least it reaches his eye.  
  
Kanda know that they should talk about it. About days of fear, a nameless redhead in the morgue, pain and depression, the way they look at each other, obvious enough for the nurses to smile at one another, but they don’t. Instead they talk about unimportant nonsense like the terrible hospital meals, the weather, the staff, and often they remain silent and Kanda just sits next to his bed while Lavi desperately tries to hold a pen in his left hand without dropping it every few seconds.

 

And suddenly Lavi is well enough to leave the hospital and start rehab. The right arm and leg are once more in plaster, because he had two more surgeries in the last week, more plates and screws, while the hemiparesis in his left side improved at least a little. His smile is less lopsided and eating got a lot easier.  
  
Kanda sits on his usual chair and listens to Lavi and the doctor talking about rehab, physiotherapy, his prognosis and it’s just a passing remark that causes Lavi’s whole face to light up.  
  
“Some patients like to have a weekend at home, before the rehabilitation starts,” she says and Lavi’s eye jumps towards Kanda, who immediately nods, even though their apartment is not accessible and looks absolutely awful, since Kanda didn’t really cleaned since the accident or at least did more laundry than necessary.  
  
Lavi beams for the rest of the conversation and keeps smiling even after a quarrel with the old man, who wants to take him home for the weekend. But Lavi just wants to sleep in his own bed and finally the old man relents.  
  
Lavi’s bed is barely his at the moment, because Kanda sleeps in it since the day he stood in front of Lavi’s bed, staring at the light brown spot in his left eye. His sleep is still restless, but lying between colourful linen, walls full of photos and scattered clothes is oddly comforting, much more than his own clean, sterile room.  
  
Kanda doesn’t sleep Thursday night. Instead he changes the linen, fluffs Lavi’s pillow, cleans everything up, does the laundry, clears the corridor for the wheelchair and even cooks. No lasagne, because the smell is burned into the folds of his brain. He was greeted by it every time he opened the fridge, until he finally could bring himself to throw the dish away after they found him. And so he prepares miso soup while listening to the deafening silence of their apartment. Not _his_ , _their_ , because Lavi is going to come home, even if it’s only for a weekend.  
  
Then he leans against the window sill and watches soft hues of yellow and rose until it’s time for breakfast. He calls in sick and has to wait another few hours, slowly getting fidgety, even though he’s normally always the one keeping his cool. Or at least he was. Until coming home to an empty apartment and finding a bed and lasagne untouched. He still thinks about the body, the other redhead, and keeps wondering how everything would have changed if it had been Lavi. Or if Lavi really had died, all alone on an empty street, or later in the hospital. And then he inevitably starts to think about all the operations in the next years and possible complications.  
  
Finally it’s midmorning and his father picks him up. The old man is already sitting in the back, looking younger than in the last weeks, and so they hit the road. Kanda has to put his hands in his pockets to keep them from wandering restlessly. Froi and the old man chat light-heartedly. The weather, the friendly staff of the rehab clinic, how much better Lavi got. Kanda doesn’t know if they really don’t see the tiredness in his eye or how vacuous his smile is, of if they just don’t want to see it. Lavi is better, but not well, and Kanda keeps going through their apartment mentally, because everything has to be perfect. He can’t forget anything. Lavi only has three nights at home and those have to be flawless.  
  
They finally reach the hospital and Kanda walks ahead, because he’s on edge and his father’s chattering isn’t helping. Lavi already sits in his wheelchair, his bag on his lap, and waits for them. His eye lands on Kanda and an honest smile darts over his face, making Kanda’s heart a little lighter and his hands less cold.  
  
“Hello,” he greets them and Kanda steps back while the old man and his father hug Lavi. He doesn’t, because they’re not alone and it’s a boundary he doesn’t dare to cross. Cupping the cheek of somebody badly injured is something different. It’s comfort and solace. A hug is a confession Kanda isn’t willing to make. The way his heart jumps against his ribcage every time Lavi looks at him is bad enough.  
  
Lavi falters for a moment, but if he’s hurt he hides it well. His eye keeps wandering to Kanda, who carries his bag and also insists on moving the wheelchair. Lavi can’t turn his head a lot and has to stop examining him. Instead he talks to the old man, who keeps patting his shoulder and laying a hand on the back of his head.  
  
When they reach the car Kanda has to touch him to help him on the backseat. Lavi laughs a little awkwardly and Kanda has no idea where to put his hands, but after some shuffling he lifts him out of the wheelchair, one hand on the back of his thigh, the other on his back. He’s way lighter than the last time Kanda lifted him up, nearly a year ago to throw him into a pool. Lavi’s hair touches his cheek and he’s still laughing. He can’t really wrap his arms around Kanda, because one is still in plaster and the other doesn’t want to obey, but they somehow manage to get him into the car without hitting any sensitive parts against something.  
  
The drive home feels much shorter. Kanda listens to chit-chat, noticing that Lavi’s still slurring, but less than before. He doesn’t even know why he’s so on edge. Maybe because bringing the new Lavi home means that the old one is really never going to come back home. The old Lavi, who had two glinting eyes, who was always healthy, who was sometimes all night on his feet, free and independent. And not in pain nearly permanently.  
  
They reach their apartment building and it’s chaotic, because everybody wants to help. It’s more shuffling and more awkward laughing, while helping Lavi back in his wheelchair. It’s cumbersome, because the lift is broken. Kanda isn’t as fit as before all this, because he barely sleeps and only eats irregularly. It’s weird, because carrying Lavi a few steps is just a little awkward, but three flights of stairs is long, slow and uncomfortable and Lavi is clearly in pain, even though he doesn’t want to show it. The cheek touching Kanda’s neck feels hot and clammy and his leg, the broken one, is slightly trembling. Kanda stops and shifts a little, even though Lavi says into his ear that he doesn’t have to, but his breath goes a little easier afterwards. Froi takes care of the wheelchair and after a while of the old man, because it’s all a little too much for his heart, and finally they stop in front of their apartment.  
  
Kanda puts Lavi as gentle as possible back into his wheelchair and feels a soundless sigh against his cheek, while pulling away. Lavi looks at him, face a little stiff, but still smiling. “Home,” is all he says and Kanda has to search for his keys until he finally unlocks the door. They have to lift the wheelchair a little to get him over the doorsteps and then they’re inside. The apartment is spotless, way cleaner than usually, even though Lavi tried to be less chaotic in the last months before the accident.  
  
“Do you want to lie down?” the old man asks and Lavi nods slowly.  
  
“Yuu did all the work, but I just get so quickly tired at the moment,” he answers and Kanda feels the frustration more than he hears it. But then Lavi’s back at smiling, vacuous and still a little stiff. They chat for a few more minutes and then both men leave finally and Lavi slumps down with a sigh as soon as the door is closed.  
  
“What do you need?” Kanda asks and sees the fine lines around Lavi’s eyes that he dislikes so much.  
  
“I would like to put my leg up,” he replies and Kanda nods, before hesitating another moment. “What is it?”  
  
”I don’t think your wheelchair fits through the door, but we can try.”  
  
Lavi shakes his head and raises his arms, the broken one a lot higher than the other. “No, it’s okay,” he replies and Kanda nods, before carefully lifting him up. Lavi doesn’t say anything, but Kanda feels a harsh breath against his neck.  
  
“Where does it hurt?” he asks and doesn’t move, because he doesn’t want to make it even worse.  
  
“Everywhere,” Lavi replies with a joyless laugh, which falls silent when Kanda doesn’t move immediately. “Yuu.” Kanda doesn’t remember the last time Lavi’s voice sounded this sharp and so he moves without saying anything, even though Yuu Kanda normally doesn’t swallow his anger. And he is angry, even though there’s nobody to be angry at. Aside from the driver, who’s still not found and who’s also not here right now. It’s only Kanda and Lavi, who are both on edge, bleary-eyed and speechless, even though they talk and talk. About how nice Kanda made Lavi’s bed and even fluffed the pillow. How happy Lavi is to be at home. How he can’t wait to eat miso soup. They don’t talk about the awkwardness between them. About Lavi’s slowly reddening eye, because the soup lands everywhere but in his mouth. About the hard line of Kanda’s mouth, because Lavi’s finally home and so screamingly unhappy that he can barely bear it. They also don’t talk about Lavi not napping, like he said he would, but crying silently behind the closed door. About Kanda standing in the corridor and just listening, because he has no idea what to do.  
  
It’s awful. Everything is awful. Kanda sits cross-legged on the old wooden floor and listens to the silence, because Lavi either fell asleep or calmed down. It’s the latter he soon learns, because Lavi accidently knocks down the glass on his nightstand and has to call for Kanda, who gets him a new drink and cleans up while Lavi watches him with a very tired eye. He looks up and they lock eyes, but only for a moment.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Lavi says after a while, but Kanda shakes his head.  
  
“It’s fine,” he answers and Lavi nods slowly. He’s sad and frustrated all at once and Kanda wants to comfort him, but doesn’t know how. Laying a hand on his cheek felt natural in the hospital, but here, in their apartment and in the bed Kanda slept in for months, even though it was never his own, it’s different. And so he doesn’t and Lavi gets a little sadder and angrier. Kanda tiptoes around him, since disappearing into his room is out of questions, because Lavi is finally, finally home. He’s alive and Kanda could just reach out and trace his cheekbone, but just like the coward he is, he keeps tiptoeing. Lavi notices, of course he does, he always does, and gets even more frustrated, sadness silently dying down, but anger growing. Kanda doesn’t want to treat him with kid gloves, but in the end he does and Lavi finally explodes, still being so much calmer than Kanda, whose old friend rage awakens with a roar.  
  
“Yuu, just leave me alone, okay?” Lavi rasps out and doesn’t look at him, but at the spoon Kanda took out of his clumsy fingers without thinking about it. He’s a bull in a china shop, giving Lavi the feeling to be even more handicapped than he really is. Kanda knows that he just should apologize or at least leave, because it’s all too much for Lavi, but rage doesn’t want to listen.  
  
“Sorry for trying to help you,” he answers waspishly and now Lavi looks at him, face full of scars and anger.  
  
“Sorry for being such an inconvenience,” he replies as venomously and Kanda just should leave, maybe go on a short walk or at least get some fresh air, but he doesn’t. Lavi’s hurt and nearly died and he still can’t look into his eye without having the feeling to show too much, to be too vulnerable, since he was never as vulnerable as now. And he hates every second of it, because Yuu Kanda isn’t vulnerable. Yuu Kanda doesn’t give a fuck and he’s not afraid and especially he doesn’t take without giving out.  
  
“Sorry for lifting your fucking ass up three floors, cleaning and cooking for you and spending all my fucking free time in the fucking hospital,” he hisses and winces at how terribly passive-aggressive he sounds. It’s ridiculous, but both of them are nervous wrecks.  
  
Lavi doesn’t reply, but his jaw works and Kanda knows that he’s seething. He wants to turn around and leave, but Lavi does the mistake and says the absolute wrong thing.  
  
“Sorry for not dying, I guess.”  
  
Kanda freezes and stares at him and Lavi seems to understand immediately that he overstepped an invisible boundary, set in sleepless nights, searching and hoping and _please, please, please come home_. He wants to backpedal, but Kanda is already shouting.  
  
“I thought I lost you!” The sound of his own voice makes him wince. Vulnerable. So, so vulnerable. “Fuck off.” But even all horrible things he could say can’t hide how wobbly his anger his, the crack in his voice, his cold hands.  
  
Lavi just lies there and looks at him, face unreadable, but not for long. His eye reddens and he finally crumbles. Kanda’s anger is gone in the instant Lavi bursts into tears and suddenly he’s kneeling in front of the bed, hands dancing over wet cheeks.  
  
“Yuu,” he croaks and cries even harder, because he wants to wrap an arm around Kanda, but he can’t. And so Kanda does. He takes him into his arms and then Lavi cries and cries and cries. Kanda doesn’t say anything, because he’s grinding his teeth to keep his cheeks dry. After a while Lavi’s breath gets slightly calmer, but not much. He draws back a little and examines Kanda, who’s still kneeling in front of the bed.  
  
“Don’t your knees hurt like this?” he asks and Kanda barely understands him because of tears and slur, but he nods, climbs on the bed and lies down next to him. Lavi’s eye looks even greener like this and keeps jumping over his face. “Yuu,” he whispers and the tears keep coming.  
  
“I thought I lost you,” Kanda repeats silently and can’t look at him. He wants to run away and at the same time never let go. “You… you were just gone and…”  
  
“Yuu,” Lavi whispers and Kanda smooths his hand over his blotchy cheek. Lavi inhales shakily and says something, but Kanda doesn’t understand him.  
  
“Try again,” he says, because Lavi casts his eye down. He shakes his head, but Kanda repeats himself. “Try again.”  
  
Lavi inhales deeply and tries again, voice this time a little calmer. “I thought the whole time about you.” His voice cracks and Kanda barely catches the last words, but in the end he does and just looks at him. He wants to ask _why?_ , but the words are lost somewhere in his ribcage. “In the hospital. I don’t remember much from the beginning, but then all I did was thinking about you. I wouldn’t have made it without you.” Kanda wants to disagree, because that’s just not true. He wants to call Lavi a fighter or whatever people in situations like this say, but Lavi doesn’t let him. “Yuu. It’s true.”  
  
He should say something beautiful, maybe that he never wants to get up again, that he’s in love and scared shitless, that he did the same and thought day and night about him, but once more he’s speechless. Lavi doesn’t seem to mind and just examines him, breath calmer now.  
  
“Yuu?” he finally whispers and his eye is green, so green. And Kanda suddenly just knows that Lavi is going to ask him to kiss him and so he does. Lavi gasps softly and Kanda feels his lashes fluttering against his skin. It’s innocent and soft, just lips on lips and Kanda draws back only a moment later to look at Lavi, who looks back at him, eye wide and soft and mouth even softer. “Yuu.”  
  
And Kanda kisses him a second time, slower and longer this time. It’s awkward and weird and scary and beautiful at the same time and Kanda doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Lavi laughs silently against his lips and looks at him with a glinting green eye. “Yuu,” he repeats and Kanda carefully puts one arm under his head and the other hand on his waist to pull him close. Lavi sighs soundlessly and closes his eye. He tastes like orange juice and home and it’s a beautiful moment, but not for long. A little sound leaves his lips and suddenly all Kanda can think about is the pained groan after the removal of the artificial respiration. He draws back and looks at Lavi, whose smile disappears.  
  
“What’s wrong?” he asks silently and Kanda inhales deeply. _What’s wrong_. Everything is wrong. Lavi’s reddened eye, his broken bones, the tiredness hidden behind his smile. The fact that Kanda needed to nearly lose him until he finally understood why his heart blooms every time Lavi smiles at him. Kanda wants to run, but fleeing is out of question. Lavi lies in his arms, skinny and hurt, and finally looks a little less sad. Kanda examines him, tracing scars, pale lashes, bitten lips. Lavi’s eye drops to his mouth, before going all the way back up to his eyes.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he finally answers and Lavi frowns softly.  
  
“For what?”  
  
“For being a passive-aggressive asshole,” he replies. He was never this close to Lavi. Their noses are nearly touching.  
  
“No.” He feels the word more than he hears it. “I’m sorry, too.” His lashes are still clinging together, leaving behind small drops on Kanda’s fingers. Lavi closes his eye and leans his face into the touch. He wants to add something, but then his stomach growls and he starts to laugh. “Oh.”  
  
“Wanna give the soup another try?” Kanda asks and Lavi looks at him with a soft frown.  
  
“It’s going to get on anything,” he answers, but Kanda shrugs.  
  
“I don’t care.” He carefully frees the arm Lavi’s laying on and sits up. “Or I cook you something easier to eat.”  
  
“No, the soup is delicious.” Lavi looks up to him and smiles.  
  
Kanda slowly nods and gets up. Then he puts one arm under Lavi’s knees and the other around his back, before lifting him up. Lavi laughs and examines him, green eye still reddened, but shining. Kanda does a step, before stopping, because Lavi leans his face against his neck. They stay like this for a few seconds, Lavi in his arms and finally home.  
  
“Yuu, are you in love with me?” he asks after a moment and Kanda starts moving. His heart throbs against his ribcage and Lavi just has to hear it.  
  
“No,” he answers on principle, but Lavi knows him long enough and just laughs, before mocking a pout.  
  
“Aww, that’s cold,” he says and Kanda pushes the kitchen door open with his elbow.  
  
“Okay, yes. Maybe.” That’s all Kanda is willing to give and Lavi keeps laughing. Kanda wants to sit him on one of the chairs, but Lavi leans against him and so he holds him for another moment.  
  
“Okay, maybe I’m in love with you, too. Maybe.” Lavi is still laughing when Kanda helps him down and on the chair. He wants to draw back, but stays for a few more seconds, because Lavi weakly hooks a few fingers into his sleeve.  
  
“Maybe,” Kanda repeats and closes his eyes, because Lavi gives him a kiss on the neck, innocent and soft.  
  
“Yuu, are you gonna visit me in the rehabilitation clinic?” Lavi asks against his skin, even though he already knows the answer. Kanda feels his smile.  
  
“Yes,” he answers and kisses him. “Everything is going to be alright.”  
  
Lavi’s alive and they’re in love. Everything is going to be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading!
> 
> PS: I'm hosting a laviyuu week in spring 2018. If you're interested feel free to participate!  
> https://laviyuu-week.tumblr.com/


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